"I'm not married," she said quickly, and he wondered how on earth she could be so sure if she did not even know her own name. "I mean, I don't feel like I'm married. But you're right, I'm sure. A good night's sleep, and everything will become clear."
"Although perhaps," James said, the thought suddenly occurring to him, "I should send for the doctor. If you really cannot remember who you are, perhaps you have sustained serious injuries that are not immediately apparent…"
But to that, she shook her head. "Oh no, I certainly don't need to put you to that bother. Now that I'm warm, I feel fine in myself…"
James nodded slowly. She seemed insistent – and he really did not want to have to call for the doctor. The expense was no issue, of course, but he'd rather nobody else knew that this girl was staying in his home. And if she said she felt fine…well, who was he to argue?
If her memory had not resurfaced in a day or two, then he would, of course, call for a professional opinion. He wasn’t going to have the girl here for any great length of time. But he surely could give her a night or two, see if her memory returned by itself. And he would barely have to interact with her, really. A meal together, perhaps. That was all.
???
Penelope was shown to a beautiful bedchamber overlooking the lake – or ‘the loch’ as the staff seemed to call it. Since this trip was, of course, unplanned, she had no belongings with her, so the footman simply showed her up and then left her there.
She stood for a long while, looking out of the window and marvelling at how far removed the weather now seemed from the storm that had brought her here. Indeed, it was hard to believe such winds had raged and such rain had fallen when looking upon the clear blue skies.
With every moment that passed, she began doubting her plan. What did she hope to achieve by remaining in this Duke’s home without him knowing who she was?
And yet, excitement fizzed away in the pit of her stomach. She could be anyone. No one needed to know, for the next day or so, that she was the daughter of an earl and countess, that she had a rather sizable dowry, or that she had four failed Seasons behind her.
The Duke clearly was not putting on any airs and graces around her; in fact, she found him rather rude. But even that was exciting because everyone was always so polite, even if one had no idea what they were like beneath the surface.
The grounds stretched on endlessly, and she could see to the left a manicured garden, clearly kept to a high standard by a gardener. To the right of the lake was open grass, leading to woodland.
It wasn’t quite her beloved Amblewood, but she did think it was a beautiful castle.
She perched on the window seat, fairly sure that she would have time alone before it was time for supper. Shesupposed she didn’t have to stay in the room, but it felt polite, for now, to stay put.
She needed a plan. A plan for what she wanted to achieve from this brief break from society’s expectations.
She wanted to see, first of all, what kind of man the Duke was outside of a ballroom. In fact, after meeting him briefly, she struggled to imagine him in a ballroom, though she was sure he had frequented them over the years.
She also wanted to see if there was any chance of him being a suitable candidate for marriage. It would be very lucky if the man she ended up stranded with was someone she could finally fall in love with – and a man who might finally fall in love with her.
She wouldn’t get this chance again. It was a pure twist of fate that she had ended up in the cove by his castle and that he had found her, and surely it made sense to make the most of such a situation.
Chapter Seven
Feeling irritated, James pulled on his riding boots without bothering to call for his valet and stomped down the stairs. The land for the proposed new cottages needed inspecting, and he was not going to let the arrival of this unnamed chit get in the way of his business. He had a castle full of servants, after all; if she needed anything, she was hardly alone.
As he rode hard and fast across the estate, he tried to imagine what it would be like not to know who he was, or not to want to know who he was. Being the future Duke of Dunloch, and then taking on the title, had been an essential part of his character for as long as he could remember. Indeed, his parents had very deliberately raised him for this monumental task.
So he could not think of himself as separate from the title. That was what everyone saw, including himself: the title. The Duke.
He thought perhaps his sisters saw beyond it, for they certainly did not treat him with the respect the rest of society did. But they were silly girls, and their constant idle chitchat distracted him from more important matters.
Although, he had to admit, the castle was rather quiet now that they had left.
"Good morning, Your Grace," a local farmer called, tipping his hat.
James nodded in greeting from atop his horse. "Good morning, Mr Jarvis. How are those sheep of yours doing?" He took pride in knowing all of his tenants by name, as well as what they farmed. For how could one yield good results from the land if one was ignorant?
"They’re doing well, thank you Your Grace. Although there is a fence down in the left field they keep escaping from, no matter how often I fix it."
"I can take a look, if you like, once I’ve inspected old Acorn farm. See if there’s anything I can suggest."
"Much appreciated, Your Grace," Mr Jarvis said with a bow, and James trotted on his way.
He knew what he was doing when it came to looking after his estate. He was confident in his decision-making, and his tenants trusted him. He had no issues with riots or protests like some of his neighbours had, and he thought that was because he always tried to make sure he was fair. Whether the men he dealt with were farmers, labourers, men in service, or other local gentry, he believed they all deserved a fair chance at making a living for themselves and their families.
